


The Assignment.

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels), valuna



Series: Assassins [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Dracula 2000 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-10
Updated: 2005-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Miller gets a new assignment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Assignment.

Gerard pushes his glasses up as the door opens. "Come in, Jonathan." He doesn't need to look. There are three security cameras on the other side of the door and Gerard only has to look down to see the screen. "Hang your coat up."

"I'll leave it on." Jonathan tugs the heavy pea coat around his shoulders a bit tighter. "Your office is always a bit cold, Butler." He settles into a chair, not waiting to be asked or told to sit.

"I fall asleep when it's too warm." It's an off-repeated bit of trivia that Gerard likes to pass around. It isn't true, of course, but it's nice to build up a reputation for a certain weakness, especially in this line of work. You never know when an agent will turn on you. "And it keeps you on your toes."

"You might want to let doc check your thyroid. Could be dysfunctional." Jonathan smiles, faint, and reaches up to run his hand through his hair -- cut shorter than usual for the last assignment. "Who needs killing?"

"Name's Urban. You might have heard of him." Gerard hands Jonathan a recent surveillance photo of the man. "Billionaire businessman, etcetera etcetera."

Jonathan takes the photo, stares at it. "He's got money," he murmurs, "but can't buy off death." He drops the photo to the desk. "What'd he do?"

"Does it matter?" There are other photos as well in the file. His mansion, his gardens. His poolboy.

"Not really." Jonathan leans forward, shuffles through the other photos Gerard's put down. "Assassins' curiosity."

"Being curious is not part of your job description. I'd prefer you didn't die on this one. Funerals are such a pain in the arse."

"For a second there, I thought you cared about me." Jonathan grins, then goes back to studying the photo of Urban by the pool. "Got a thing for the poolboy, looks like. Any specifics on how he's to be taken out?"

Gerard shudders. "Heaven forefend." The second he starts caring about an assassin, someone takes them out. It's like clockwork. "He's been banging the poolboy for the last six months. Poolboy's our agent, so please try not to kill him."

"Poolboy's ours?" Jonathan holds the photo closer. "I haven't met him. Definitely won't kill him." He looks over the paper's edge. "You still didn't answer the question. You tying my hands on this one?"

"He's an infiltrator and he can help get you out, but he isn't a good shot." Gerard sighs. "It has to look natural, Jonathan. Not my call on that. It can't look like you did it."

"Natural? That mean he can be shot so long as CSI types can't trace it to me? Or you really tying my hands?" Jonathan prefers the anonymous kills, the ones where he doesn't have to get close to anyone. Gerard knows that.

"I'm tying your hands." He doesn't like doing it. He doesn't like doing anything that would shorten the odds on any of his assassins getting home in one piece. It's easy to gain a reputation for being reckless with agents' lives and almost impossible to lose it. "No guns. No stab wounds. Nothing that would show up on an autopsy. You're going to need to be very, very creative."

_Creative. Great._ Jonathan blows out a breath, slinks down into the chair. "If I gotta take that much risk, I need to know everything." He doesn't have to ask to know Gerard's not going to just hand over information. "Why do we want him dead?"

Jonathan doesn't need to know that, but that doesn't mean that Gerard can't put him on the right track. "Use your head. He has money, he's in business. Who would someone like that piss off?"

"It's a laundry list of people, Butler." Jonathan's not in the mood for guessing games. He drops the last photo he'd been holding and rubs his temples, small circular caresses against the headache he knows is coming. "Do you have me a cover set up? Or am I on my own for getting in the house?"

"You can be on your own if you want to, but we have two opportunities set up. Urban is looking to get new carpet and we have a convenient front. Then there's always the old electrician standby."

Jonathan laughs, shakes his head. "Do I look like a guy who lays carpet?"

"I'm sure you could fake it."

"You'd know." Jonathan mutters the words under his breath, smiling all the while. He clears his throat. "Let me look through the whole dossier," he says, louder. "I'll come up with something. Timeframe? You got a deadline?"

"By the end of the week." Gerard hands Jonathan the entire file. It's got everything but the name of the client.

"End of week. Fuck. You like watching me squirm?" Jonathan takes the file, flips through it absently. "I just came off the last job. Why the damned rush?"

"Yeah, love watching you squirm." Gerard rolls his eyes. "Simply put, Jonathan, and I hate to stroke your ego like this, you're the only one not on a long-term assignment who can do it."

"Oh, I know how much that hurts you." Jonathan stretches out his legs, heel of his Doc Martens tapping against the floor as he crosses his ankles. "Nice compliment, though it's going to cost you. Twice my normal fee."

The client had offered three and a half times it as the price, but Jonathan doesn't need to know that. "Done. Twice it, half of it before."

"You agreed too quickly." Jonathan knows that's not like Gerard. He usually haggles the price. "Not making me feel very much at ease about this. How much was on the table?"

"Enough to cover my cut and the operational budget." It's nice when he doesn't have to chase after the clients afterwards and hold a gun to their head to get the surcharges all paid up. Gerry likes to at least pretend to be civilized. "And enough to buy a nice necklace for your wife."

"Ex-wife." Jonathan doesn't have to remind Gerard of that. He was around for the descent into hell. "And she doesn't get a cut anymore, thank you."

"You're welcome." Gerard reaches into a drawer and tosses Jonathan a small package. "Give it to your mistress, then."

Jonathan grabs the package. "Mistress." He laughs. "That's a good one. Assassins don't have those. No time."

"Then give it to whoever it is you fuck. Or your mother." Gerard pauses. "Or didn't I have you kill her last year?"

"No, you gave that assignment to Law." Jonathan opens the package, shakes out the diamond bracelet and second envelope -- holding the money, he guesses. "Nice, Butler. You wear diamonds?"

"No, they get in the way of slapping agents." It _is_ a nice bracelet. Howard had picked it up when doing a raid on a jeweler and then handed it to Gerard as confiscated evidence.

"Oooh, be still my heart. Who you slapping around this month?" Jonathan fingers the bracelet, rubbing his thumb over the diamonds. They're nice. _Very_ nice. Worth a couple thousand.

"I haven't decided yet." Gerard gives Jonathan a frank look. "Maybe you. You interested?"

Jonathan grins. "You finally made it down to me on the list. How nice." He returns the frank look with one of his own. "Who says I wouldn't want to slap you, though?"

"I was doing it alphabetically," Gerard says calmly. "And you can't slap me. You know I'd only take you over my knee and spank you, and then send you off for two months to the Ukraine."

"Hmm, two months in Kiev _after_ being spanked. I'll pass." Jonathan tucks the bracelet back into the package, puts the envelope of money in his coat pocket. "As for slapping me, I need a bit more enticement. What you offering?"

Gerard leans back in his chair. "Offering? I'm offering nothing. I don't do exchanges, Jonathan. You've been around long enough to know that." He triangles his fingers. "I do what I want, you give me what I want. The same as our business relationship."

"Yeah. Been around long enough." Jonathan pushes himself up to the chair's edge. "I'll think on it. Get back to you when Urban's dead."

"Do that." Gerard presses the button under his desk and the door swings open. "Good luck."

Jonathan shrugs and stands up. "Guess I'm dismissed," he says, turning and walking to the door. "See ya next week, Butler."

Gerard gives him a little wave. "Call in beforehand so they don't kill you from the street." He watches Jonathan's progress on the security cameras, then pulls out him mobile phone. "Everything's set. Miller's on it. Expect results soon."


End file.
